


Old Dogs

by canadino



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 04:21:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5813926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canadino/pseuds/canadino
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some things don't change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old Dogs

They’re fighting, again. Misaki shows it by frowning, deeper than usual so it carves lines into the space between his eyebrows, and setting down his skateboard a little too roughly next to the bar. Like usual, it starts by something completely arbitrary and all too often forgettable, so as Misaki sits there and wracks his brain, he can’t remember for the life of him what it was that he said or what Saruhiko said that has made them now refuse to speak or see each other after exchanging heated words and punches thrown with all their strength. It doesn’t matter, because whatever it is keeps some kind of fire burning in his chest and he can’t bring himself to be the bigger man and admit he made any mistake. “Amazing,” Anna says, sitting two seats away from him. “You’re still so angry at this point.”

Misaki is stupid, so at first he doesn't know what she means, but Kusanagi clarifies it by saying, “It shows how strong they’re connected. Even after all these years, arguing with him makes Yata upset.” He turns to Misaki now. “The opposite of love isn’t hate, it’s apathy. But doesn’t it get - how should I say - monotonous to bicker all the time? After all, with how things are, haven’t you two made up and become friends again?”

Normally, that wouldn’t bother him, but the circumstances are such that it isn’t that they’re just friends now. It isn’t that Misaki has never suspected, after years of feeling the way Saruhiko looks and speaks to him and the way Saruhiko’s hands always linger a little too long over his skin before grabbing him too hard or pulling away like reconsidering, but he’s made excuses - Saruhiko’s socially awkward, Saruhiko’s had a difficult upbringing so he doesn’t know how to treat others, he’s Saruhiko’s first friend and he turned a blind eye and let it get so far that Saruhiko hurts himself and wears blue clothes. In some ways, Misaki knows, quietly, how he’s treated an old friend isn’t fair. Saruhiko is twenty, he’s no sociopath and he’s not emotionally stunted, just nuanced in a way that Misaki isn’t used to so he writes away that difficult concept by taking away the agency granted by the fact that Saruhiko is a complex person who he’s taken for granted. 

Except - it frustrates him that even when they’ve tentatively made up, him coming to terms that although the both of them would have liked it if they stayed together they’re separate people with different needs and wants, Saruhiko still keeps his hands behind his back (metaphorically, of course, because they’re trained to fight at a moment’s notice and that’s just not a very prepared stance) when they’re together. Misaki says, “I like you, Saruhiko, like in a romantic way.” Saruhiko turns a bright, bright red, which seems ironic and hypocritical for someone who mocks others for being virginal and childish. Saruhiko is smart, someone who can memorize complex numbers and formulas and many strategic formations, so while he prefers to stay quiet to avoid creating extra work for himself, he is articulate when he wants to be. He opens his mouth to say something nasty, but for the first time, Misaki thinks he’s caught Saruhiko so off-guard he’s genuinely speechless.  

(Misaki doesn’t expect or wait for any response to his confession, but Saruhiko follows him around a little closer after that, and their shoulders bump into each other more often. When they’re alone, Misaki kisses him and Saruhiko kisses like they’re back in middle school, scared and guarded like there’s a wrong way to go about it and if he does it incorrectly everything will crumble away before him. They go back to Misaki’s tiny apartment but when they’re moving around on the bed, Saruhiko is shaking. Misaki tries to ignore it, kissing Saruhiko’s neck, but the tremors are almost rocking the bed. “We don’t have to do this right now,” he says. “We can wait.”)

So, he expects things to be different because they’re together now, in all senses of the word, but it just feels like nothing has really changed and it frustrates him. They’ve agreed to keep it a secret between themselves because Saruhiko is still a member of official law enforcement and Homra is still technically a guerrilla group. It’s their first pair secret since their school days. “You wouldn’t get it,” he says to Kusanagi. It sounds immature when he says it. 

“I guess not,” Kusanagi laughs. “Well, make up soon.”  


[=]

They don’t have their powers anymore, but Homra still patrols to keep external conflict out of their jurisdiction - after all, even as an underground organization, they do perform services for the good of their community. Misaki misses the feeling of burning in his hands so he carries around the lighter Mikoto used to use, refilling it when he needs to. He needs to, because he’s got Kusanagi to teach him how to smoke and although he’s been chastised about it, Homra lives on its vices. Their headquarters is not a posh, clean office but a gritty backstreet bar. Misaki is currently in the middle of determining which brand he prefers, a cigarette sticking out of his mouth as he rides by on his skateboard, absentmindedly thinking this current one doesn’t leave as long of an ashy taste in his mouth. He’s so preoccupied he turns the corner without looking and almost collides with Akiyama. 

“Look where you’re going,” Akiyama says when they’ve avoided a full frontal impact. Misaki has good reflexes so he steers himself out of the way and he might have continued going instead of stopping, but seeing Saruhiko behind Akiyama makes him stutter in his step. “We are well within our role to write you up for being a public menace.”  


“I’m not a public menace,” Misaki says. He waits for Saruhiko to say something to goad him on, but Saruhiko’s mouth remains shut. Saruhiko looks at him like he’s just another troublemaker - or worse, he’s looking right through him and not really seeing him at all.   


“Then please take more caution to your surroundings,” Akiyama says. Misaki doesn’t know what to say, he’s got orders from Anna not to start any fights and he doesn’t want to make things worse between him and Saruhiko, so he pushes away and begins to roll away. 

(They go at it for hours, because for some reason when they finally get around to putting their hands on each other, they can’t stop. Misaki finds scars on Saruhiko’s skin that he remembers inflicting and ones he doesn’t. Saruhiko opens him up in ways no one else has. Saruhiko’s tongue stutters when Misaki moves his mouth. They only call it quits because Saruhiko is out of breath, used to office work and only occasional all-out bouts with Misaki that never really lasts more than ten minutes. He lies on Misaki’s bed on his back, staring up at the ceiling and finding rhythm to his inhales as Misaki laughs and curls up next to him. “Did you like it?” Misaki teases. He reaches over and puts his fingers into Saruhiko’s hair, damp with sweat. 

“Yes,” Saruhiko says honestly. “Yes.” They lie there like that for a moment, Misaki’s sheets thin enough to let their bodies breathe. The window is cracked open just a sliver, the sounds of cars and street chatter floating into the room. A sharp-eared person around the window probably caught an earful of both their voices, and they haven’t made any particular effort to be quiet. “How long have you loved me?” Saruhiko asks.   


The word ‘loved’ makes Misaki’s stomach curl uncomfortably. It’s such an outer limit and the end of the road. “I don’t know,” he says. “Do I have to know? Why does it matter now?”

“I’ve loved you since middle school,” Saruhiko says, turning to him. Saruhiko’s eyes aren’t very good, even since birth, so Misaki knows his face looks like a blur, probably. Saruhiko’s eyes are so bright even though the things he sees through them are not. “I never thought I’d live very long then. I wanted to be dead by twenty. But I wanted to be with you the whole time until then.”  


Misaki takes his hand from Saruhiko’s hair. “You’re so dramatic. Stop saying such crazy things.” He moves away and sits up. “Do you want water? I think I have some soda too, and some leftover beer from the bar.” 

Misaki doesn’t see the face Saruhiko makes when he clicks his tongue. He willfully interprets it as displeasure at the drink options. “I don’t want to drink anything that came from your kitchen but you’ll make me anyway.” He is asleep by the time Misaki comes back with a water and a beer.)

[=]

Misaki gets past the front gates, because they’re always open to promote an image that Scepter 4 is there for the people, but he gets stopped at the doors by Hidaka. He’s turned away, of course. Civilians can’t just walk willy nilly into government property. “Let me see Saru,” Misaki announces.

“No,” Hidaka says, irritatingly.   


Misaki isn’t sure why he thinks stating his intentions would have gotten him his way. “I need to see Saru,” he tries next.

“I can pass on your message,” Hidaka says.   


Misaki thinks, even without his powers, he could probably beat Hidaka to a pulp with his bare fists. The police dogs need authorization before they can undock their swords. He doubts Hidaka will have enough time to request permission by the time Misaki’s fist meets his face. Only Saruhiko carries around additional weapons, because he’s impatient and doesn’t like to wait for others to let him do things. “Why won’t you let me see Saru?”

“Because you don’t have government clearance,” Hidaka says. “And he doesn’t want to see you too.”  


Misaki frowns. “Who says?”

Hidaka shrugs, like it’s none of his business. “He hasn’t left his office in days besides to eat, patrol, and tidy himself up. He doesn’t go back to his place in the dorms to sleep even though our beds are pretty comfy. He just wants to be left alone.” He looks at Misaki. “He gets all bent out of shape - more than usual, I guess - whenever any of us mention Homra. We’ve had to come up with a secret codename. It’s Smokey Bear, by the way, like that American icon about forest fires, because your guys’ old symbol was a flame, and...”

“Let me see Saru,” Misaki says again.   


“You really think that repeating yourself will make me do as you say,” Hidaka sighs. “Well, it doesn’t work like that.” Misaki starts to drop his center of gravity to wallop Hidaka into the next year, but Hidaka opens the door behind him. “I’m going to go talk to the Chief about this. Nothing I say seems to be making you go away. Please stay here. Do not move or try to enter the building.” Hidaka walks through the doors and disappears and does not close the doors behind him.   


Misaki doesn’t know if that is an implicit invitation, but he thinks even if it isn’t, he’d go inside anyway. Bar Homra is full of wooden accents and red orange light, but Scepter 4 has aquamarine tiles and a cool feel to the air, like he’s coming right out of the shower. Misaki picks up his skateboard and tries to make heads or tails of the layout of the building. In an ideal world, the strength of his feelings for Saruhiko and their fated bond would be enough to lead him to where he needs to be, but he peeks into the hallway where all the holding cells are and accidentally walks into an empty restroom. Some doors are locked and others are empty, so he has no other choice but to go right into the main room, where a handful of Scepter 4 members are gathered. 

“Hey,” he says to the closest member. “Where’s Saru’s office?”  


“The third in command doesn’t have an office. He works at the desk over there.” The desk is empty where the man gestures. “But he usually takes his work in the next room because he says we’re too noisy for him.” If current conditions are orthodox, the only sounds Misaki hears are typing and the occasional brief conversation. Hidaka is sitting at his desk and not looking over at him. Misaki walks over to the door to the next room, gripping his board warily to hurl it in self-defense if necessary, but no one makes any movement to stop him.   


The next room over is nothing more than a glorified storage room. There are metal filing cabinets pushed together neatly. A couple of office chairs are stacked in a heap in the back. The bookshelves in the room are filled with papers and books with a fine layer of dust over them. Saruhiko is sitting at the nearest desk to the door, the only desk without another desk placed on top to keep the room relatively clear. Saruhiko is not so much sitting as he is slouched over, dozing while leaning against the table with his computer closed. Misaki closes the door behind him as much as he is able before he hears the rustle of the Scepter 4 members outside; he’s been let in, but he isn’t trusted, and if he closes the door all the way he’s pretty sure they’ll burst through a second later to make sure he isn’t making an attempt on Saruhiko’s life. He walks up to where Saruhiko is sitting and kneels down next to him. 

Saruhiko is a light sleeper and he opens his eyes when Misaki sets his skateboard down carefully. Misaki prepares for a scalding tongue lashing, but Saruhiko merely sits still and looks at him. “I was thinking,” he says finally. “If it’s between this and breaking up, I’d rather just pretend I was wrong and that I’m sorry. You’re fickle and you actually like me calling you by your name now, so there’s not much I can do to make you look at me.”

“That’s not what I want,” Misaki says. “I don’t want you to acquiesce to me like that. I said I wanted to understand you, and you’ve got to translate your thoughts into my language so I can get it, but I want to hear your thoughts.” He blinks. “To be honest, I can’t remember what we are arguing about anymore.”  


Saruhiko frowns and he clicks his tongue. “It’s not worth reminding you,” he says finally, which is a truce as good as any. 

“I missed you,” Misaki says, and he’s kneeling because he can watch Saruhiko’s face from this angle, and if Saruhiko feels cornered he’ll run but he’s in a very unthreatening position. Saruhiko’s face turns pink. Saruhiko’s feelings show on his face with immediate reaction time, but how fast it takes him to flush is fascinating to Misaki. “Can I see you after work?”  


Saruhiko looks away but his profile is still in full view, and he’s scowling. His ears are red. “I’ll never finish my work if you keep loitering around. If you don’t leave right now, I’ll have security show you out.” 

When Misaki walks through the main room to leave the building, he knows while the Scepter 4 folks aren’t paying attention to him directly, their ears are perked and they’re curious. “Nothing to see here,” he says, his voice raising to comedic heights in his anxiety to play it cool. “Just guys being friends. Having a friendly chat.” The least composed member lets out an audible snicker and Misaki can hear Saruhiko click his tongue again. He’s feeling good, so he grinds down the staircase railing, and then Misaki really starts running because he hears Saruhiko call his name and in a really angry way implying retributions for damaging property. Misaki doesn’t have Homra’s flame anymore, but he feels powerful all the same. 

**Author's Note:**

> Finally after 3-4 years I write a fic for this ship that haunts me to this day. Thanks for reading! Leave a comment if you liked.


End file.
